


Purgatory is a Bitch

by LillianDeLooney



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alpha Derek, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Bottom Stiles Stilinski, Derek and Stiles are Mates, Everyone Is Alive, Fluff, Hand Jobs, Horny Stiles, Knotting, M/M, Mates, Oral Sex, POV Derek, Peter is enjoying all of it way too much, Post-Coital Cuddling, Purgatory, Sassy Peter, Scott is a Good Friend, Seven Deadly Sins, Seven Heavenly Virtues, Sexual Tension, Smut, Top Derek
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-30
Updated: 2014-08-30
Packaged: 2018-02-15 09:32:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,594
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2224080
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LillianDeLooney/pseuds/LillianDeLooney
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The pack somehow enacts an ancient curse, leaving the majority of them with one of the seven deadly sins. </p><p>Not Derek though, oh no. As usual, he is the one who has to fix it.</p><p>And because the universe hates him and his life isn’t complicated enough as it is, Stiles is cursed with Lust, making him ridiculously horny all. the. time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Purgatory is a Bitch

**Author's Note:**

> Okay...so this happened. 
> 
> This is my first attempt at smut ever, so please bear with me.
> 
> Not beta'd, so any mistakes are mine and I sincerely apologize in advance.

Derek _hates_ his life.  
  


And as usual it has everything to do with the supernatural crisis of the week. Last night they'd somehow enacted an ancient curse, which left most of the pack acting out one of the seven deadly sins.  
  


Not Derek though, oh no. As usual, he is the one who has to _fix_ it.  
  


They’re all at the loft, doing research and trying to find the quickest way of getting everyone back to normal. Of course he, Cora and Boyd do most of the work, since they are the only ones that weren’t hit by the curse. Well, them and Peter.  
  


He levels a glare at his uncle, who’s sitting lazily on the spiral stairs.  
  


“You’re not going to make yourself useful here?”  
  


“Derek, when are you finally going to learn that I don’t make myself useful unless there’s something in it for me?”  
  


He rolls his eyes. “So you’re just going to sit there?”  
  


Peter snaps his fingers. “Bingo! Besides,” He lets his eyes roam around the room and smirks, “I am enjoying all of this…” This time he flicks his wrist, indicating the chaos in the room, “…way too much.”  
  


“Tell me why we keep him around again?” Cora asks exasperated.  
  


Peter just flashes them a big toothy smile.  
  


Derek angrily opens another book.  
  


“Moving on now.”  
  


After reading the same sentence for the twentieth time, he drags a hand over his face. He chances a look around the room and has to bite back a groan.  
  


His eyes first fall on Lydia and Erica on the couch. Lydia’s doing her nails or whatever, cursed with _Pride_ , although she’s probably the one with the most bearable sin. She isn’t much different than normal, just…a little more vain. Erica’s sitting next to her, reeking of jealousy as she’s comparing herself to Lydia and clearly cursed with _Envy_.  
  


Isaac has the sin of _Sloth_. He’s slumped in the armchair next to the couch and looks like he’s napping. Perfect.  
  


Then his eyes drift to the kitchen, where Jackson and Scott are fighting over the available food. Jackson’s desperately trying to hoard it – cursed with _Greed_ – while Scott is doing everything in his power to eat said food and therefore obviously has the sin of _Gluttony_.  
  


Allison is standing next to them, yelling at them to break it off and clearly fuming. _Wrath_ it is for her, then.  
  


And because the universe hates him and his life isn’t complicated enough as it is, a ridiculously horny Stiles is sitting at the kitchen table, reeking of fucking _Lust_.  
  


All of it is throwing Derek’s senses into overdrive and the groan escapes his lips after all. They better find a damn cure for this fast.  
  


#

 

A few hours later they still haven’t found anything useful, so he lets Boyd order pizza for the whole pack.  
  


Luckily it doesn’t take long for the pizza to arrive – he’s fucking starving – and as soon as the doorbell rings, Jackson and Scott jump up from their seats on the ground. They’re already trying to tackle each other in their battle to get to the door first, but Derek stops them with a flash of his eyes.  
  


“Sit. Down.” He growls, standing up and opening the door himself. He pays the delivery guy and dumps the pizza boxes on the table in the living room. Jackson and Scott reach out immediately, but Derek fixes them with a stern glare until they sit back and wait for the rest of the pack to have some pizza first.  
  


He sighs heavily. He feels like a damn babysitter.  
  


When the pizza’s split evenly, Stiles looks up from his laptop.  
  


“Hey Derek, have you ever heard of _Purgatory_?”  
  


_Of fucking course.  
  
_

He groans. “Purgatory is a bitch.”  
  


He walks over to Stiles, trying not to breath and failing miserably. Stiles licks his lips as he looks up at him with wide eyes, pupils blown. Derek has to dig his claws into the back of Stiles’ chair to refrain from leaning over and burying his nose in Stiles’ neck.  
  


“Show me what you found.” He says through gritted teeth.  
  


Stiles leans away from the screen to show him, but by doing so leans closer into Derek’s personal space and he roughly breathes out through his nose. Stiles was going to be the death of him. He does _not_ need a hard-on right now.  
  


“I…” Stiles starts, licking his lips again as his eyes flick to Derek’s and then back to the screen, “I found this thing called ‘Dante’s Divine Comedy’. It’s a poem.”  
  


Derek nods, trying to focus on what’s written on the screen instead of the clearly aroused boy beside him.  
  


“I know…’Purgatory’ is the name of the second part, right?”  
  


“Yeah, ah…it explains how from the gates of Purgatory, Virgil guides Dante through its seven terraces, each of them corresponding to the seven deadly sins. Every terrace purges a particular sin in some way. Those in Purgatory can leave their circle if they want, but only when they have corrected the flaw within themselves that led to committing that sin.”  
  


“This still doesn’t give us an answer to how to cure all of you, though.” Derek points out.  
  


“Prudentius.” Lydia states as she walks their way.  
  


Stiles and Derek both raise an inquisitive eyebrow.  
  


“Look him up. He’s a Latin poet who devised a model about the seven deadly sins and their cures in 410 AD in his allegorical poem ‘ _The Psychomachia’,_ which roughly translates to ‘the battle for the soul’.”  
  


While Derek is idly wondering how the hell she knows all that, Stiles is already typing away and sighing in relief at what he finds.  
  


“Lyds, you’re a fucking genius.”  
  


“Tell me something I don’t know,” She says, flipping her hair over her shoulder. “Like what he said about curing this mess.”  
  


“Basically, his model describes seven virtues that can cure the seven sins. Humility to cure Pride, Kindness to cure Envy, Abstinence cures Gluttony. Then you have Chastity as a cure for Lust, Patience for Wrath, Liberality for Greed and finally Diligence to cure Sloth.”  
  


“So all we have to do is let you act out these virtues and you’re cured? That’s it?” Derek asks. He’s having a hard time believing it could be that simple.  
  


Lydia shrugs. “It should work just fine.”  
  


“Not completely,” Peter says, deciding to join them at last. His smug grin can’t predict any good, though.  
  


Stiles rolls his eyes when Peter winks at him. “Elaborate.”  
  


“So glad you asked.” Peter muses, grin only growing wider as he looks between Derek and Stiles.  
  


“You see, chastity would only work when you’re actually sexually active.”  
  


“What are you talking about?” Stiles shoots back, looking stunned. “I jerked off like five times _this morning_! How is that not ‘sexually active’?”  
  


Scott and Jackson pretend to gag and make grossed-out noises.  
  


“Dude, TMI!” Scott whines.  
  


Jackson scowls. “Never tell us about you jerking it or whatever else you do again.”  
  


Derek groans as he feels heat pool low in his stomach. He did not need that visual.

  
Peter smirks. “Oh Stiles…I’m talking about _actual sex_. With something other than your hand.”  
  


“Wha –” Stiles’ eyes grow wide as realization dawns on him. “Oh.”  
  


“You see my point? Chastity won’t work on our little virgin here.” Peter mocks.  
  


Stiles turns beat red, opening and closing his mouth a few times until he’s found his voice.  
  


“What are you saying?”  
  


Peter clasps his hands together, clearly enjoying all of this way too much.  
  


“I am saying, that _someone_ …” He glances at Derek briefly before he continues, “…should devirginize you in order to cure you from your Lust.”  
  


Stiles’ mouth falls open in shock and Derek is stupid enough to take a whiff of his scent. It’s fucking intoxicating, heady with arousal and he closes his eyes, willing his erection to go down before anyone notices.  
  


After seeing Peter’s triumphant look, he figures it’s probably too late for that.  
  


“I’m not just having sex with someone, I can’t – ”  
  


Stiles’ horny scent starts to make place for one of anxiety and uncertainty, his heartbeat skyrocketing and cheeks flushing scarlet.  
  


Before Derek has the chance to react in any way, Scott is already crossing the room and in front of Stiles, trying to calm him down and keep him from having a panic attack.  
  


“Hey, just breath, okay? You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.” He rubs Stiles’ shoulders comfortingly and then turns towards the Alpha.  
  


“Right Derek?”  
  


He opens his mouth to respond, but Erica interrupts him, apparently unhappy with being left out of the situation.  
  


“Exactly.” She states, firmly placing her hands on her hips. “And besides, who says Peter’s even telling the truth?”  
  


She has a point there.  
  


Peter only rolls his eyes. “It’s astounding how much faith you all have in me.”  
  


Derek dismisses him, turning back to Stiles instead. He looks like he’s calmed down a bit, breathing returned to normal, though his heartbeat’s still a little too fast for Derek’s liking.  
  


Their eyes lock and he searches Stiles’ face, trying to figure him out. For about the millionth time since he’s met the boy he wonders what is going on inside his head.  
  


Stiles drags the tip of his tongue over those plump lips of his, eyes still locked with Derek’s and he briefly wonders if he should look away. When he notices Stiles’ pupils dilate again, he decides against it, giving Stiles a hopefully reassuring smile.  
  


Stiles finally breaks eye contact, tilting his head down slightly as he looks away somewhat shyly, small smile playing on his lips.  
  


“We’ll figure it out tomorrow.” Derek states. “Why don’t you all just go home for now, get some rest.”  
  


They don’t need more convincing than that and after saying some quick goodbyes, they all file out the loft.  
  


Peter clucks his tongue as soon as the door slides shut behind them.  
  


“I leave you such a _beautiful_ opening, but what do you do?”  
  


“Back off Peter,” Derek all but growls. “It’s not that simple.”  
  


“Explain to me how taking your _mate_ is not that simple.” Peter shoots back.  
  


Derek leaves the room without another word.  
  


#

 

It’s a few hours later when Derek gets the call.  
  


He’s lying on his bed, blankly staring at the ceiling when his phone chimes to signal an incoming text.  
  


He reaches out to the nightstand next to the bed, grabbing his phone and sliding his thumb over the screen to unlock it. It’s from Stiles.  
  


**Come over.  
  
**

Derek closes his eyes and drags a hand over his face in frustration. He takes a few minutes to decide if he’s going to reply to the text, but before he can Stiles sends him another one.  
  


**Derek you gotta help me out here.  
  
**

He chokes on his own spit, coughing and ending the sound with a groan. He is pretty sure Stiles is doing this on purpose, knowing full well what he is doing to Derek.  
  


Apparently Stiles thinks he’s being ignored, because not a minute later he’s calling Derek, speaking as soon as he’s accepted the call.  
  


“Derek get your ass over here _now_!” He yells at the other end of the line.  
  


Derek bites on his lower lip, digging the hand not holding the phone in the sheets next to him at Stiles’ demand.  
  


“Stiles…I can’t.”  
  


“Dude, you don’t understand,” Stiles rants, “I can’t _come_ anymore, okay? I’ve been trying to get myself off for at least an hour but nothing I do is _enough_!”  
  


Derek puts his fist in his mouth, biting back a moan. He barely succeeds. All he can think about is how Stiles’ current situation resembles a werewolf in heat. _His mate_ in heat. His cock twitches and for the second time that evening he wills it to go down.  
  


“Derek _please_ ,” Stiles begs, voice raw and sounding utterly _broken_. “I need you!”  
  


And that’s it. Those three words, the realization that his mate really needs him. That is all it takes for Derek to finally decide.  
  


“Give me ten minutes.”

 

#

 

Derek doesn’t think he’s ever reached Stiles’ house this fast, climbing through the boy’s bedroom window and panting slightly.  
  


He takes a second to thank whatever God there is for the fact that Stiles' dad isn't home, because fuck. If he wasn't straining hard already, he'd definitely be now.  
  


Stiles is lying naked on his bed, legs spread and his cock fully erect between them, pre-cum dripping from the head and body flushed red.  
  


He’s playing with his nipples, eyes closed and moaning softly, making Derek moan in return. Stiles’ eyes fly open as he finally notices Derek standing there and he groans.  
  


“Oh thank fucking god.”  
  


Derek catches himself staring at Stiles and he swallows, wetting his dry lips.  
  


“What do you want me to do?”  
  


Stiles lowers a hand to palm at his erection, thinking about it.  
  


“Just…you touching me would probably be enough…anywhere, just…” He trails off on a mewl.  
  


Derek hushes him, only now recognizing Stiles’ discomfort and remembering that he wasn’t able to get himself off anymore.  
  


“It’s okay,” he whispers, “I promise you’ll be okay.”  
  


Stiles whines and makes grabby hands at him and under other circumstances Derek would have laughed at his antics. Not now, though.  
  


“Just come over here already.” Stiles begs.  
  


Derek slowly walks the few steps to the bed, sitting down on the edge. He trails a hand up Stiles’ leg, meeting his eyes and about to ask if he’s sure about this, but when he takes in Stiles’ lustful gaze his breath catches in his throat.  
  


He shifts his eyes back down, deciding to just go for it and take Stiles in his hand.  
  


Stiles whimpers, drawing a moan from Derek as he slides his hand up and down the shaft. It’s still slicked up with lube from when Stiles masturbated, full and warm in Derek’s hand.  
  


Derek shifts his legs a little, his own erection straining painfully against the confines of his jeans and he palms it with his free hand.  
  


The visual is all Stiles needs to finally tip over the edge, shuddering through his orgasm and coming all over his chest and Derek’s hand.  
  


Derek strokes him through it, only stopping once Stiles whines from overstimulation.  
  


Their eyes meet and Derek let’s his fingers ghost over the skin of Stiles’ thigh until Stiles reaches out and tangles their fingers together.  
  


“Thank you.” He pants.  
  


“Anytime.”  
  


After a while Stiles’ eyes dart toward Derek’s still clothed crotch and he licks his lips before looking back at Derek with a coy smile.  
  


“You want help with that?”  
  


Derek falters slightly at that, not sure how to respond.  
  


“Stiles – ”  
  


“Shut up,” Stiles interrupts him, dragging him up the bed and manhandling him so he’s lying on his back, straddling Derek’s thighs. “We both know you want help with that.”  
  


Stiles pushes Derek’s shirt up around his chest and Derek leans up to take it off, throwing it away haphazardly. Stiles trails kisses down his chest, until he reaches the waistband of Derek’s jeans, unbuttoning them and sliding both his jeans and his boxers down Derek’s legs.  
  


Now he’s trailing kisses up Derek’s legs, lingering at the inside of his thigh until he reaches Derek’s crotch and nuzzles at it, before he finally takes Derek in his mouth as far as he can go.  
  


Derek shouts, hips bucking up involuntarily.  
  


“Stiles!” He groans.  
  


Stiles hums, eyes closed, bobbing his head around Derek’s cock enthusiastically.  
  


Derek quickly gets lost in the sensation of Stiles’ lips around him, sucking, laving his tongue around the head, then swallowing him down again.  
  


He tangles his hands in Stiles’ hair, just holding on.  
  


Soon after, he finds himself getting close and he tugs at Stiles’ hair to warn him. Stiles just places a hand on his hip and doubles his efforts.  
  


Derek lets out a long drawn out moan when his orgasm hits, shooting down Stiles’ throat.  
  


Stiles moves off him, wiping at his mouth with the back of his hand to clean the come he couldn't swallow and falling on his back beside him on the sheets, eyes closed and panting.  
  


“Wow.” Derek breaths when he’s found his voice again.  
  


Stiles chuckles. “Yeah.”  
  


Then he sighs. “I shouldn’t have done that.”  
  


Derek blanches, turning his head to the side to look at Stiles. “What do you mean?”  
  


Stiles lifts up an arm and flails it at the general direction of his crotch.  
  


“That! Blowing you got me hard _again_.” He groans. “I’m so fucking tired Derek.”  
  


“Do you still wanna try the chastity thing?” Derek asks and Stiles fixes him with a look.  
  


Right. Stupid question.  
  


Stiles sighs. “I think we should try it Peter’s way.”  
  


“We?” Derek is torn between want and wanting to do the right thing. Stiles may be eighteen, but he is cursed and clearly not thinking straight right now.  
  


“Stiles, I can’t – ”  
  


“Shut _up_!” Stiles exclaims. He turns so he’s lying on his side, propping himself up on his elbow and fixing Derek with a meaningful look.  
  


“Derek, we both know I’m your mate.”  
  


“How did you…?”  
  


“I took an educated guess. Not important. What’s important is that as your mate, there should be no reason for you not to fuck me right now.”  
  


“I think we should talk about this fir – ”  
  


Stiles roughly tangles a hand in Derek’s hair and smashes their lips together to shut him up.  
  


“Less talking, more fucking.”  
  


Derek grunts, but slides a hand around Stiles’ neck all the same, kissing him back hungrily until Stiles breaks the kiss.  
  


“Now take me.”  
  


Derek’s thankful for his werewolf stamina and short refractory period, otherwise he’d never be able to go again so soon after an orgasm.  
  


He goes back to attacking Stiles’ lips, rolling on top of him and bracketing his head with his forearms. Derek lowers himself, their bare cocks sliding together, making them both gasp.  
  


He finally gives into the urge to bury his nose in Stiles’ neck, kissing and sucking marks on it. Stiles throws his head back to give him more room and Derek groans at the show of submission.  
  


He trails his hand down Stiles’ side, then lower, fondling his balls for a second before reaching further and moving a finger around his hole teasingly. He gasps when his finger slides in easily, Stiles’ hole already prepped thoroughly.  
  


“Fuck, you fingered yourself?” Derek grunts.  
  


Stiles just nods and throws a pillow in his direction to put under his waist, lifting his hips for easier access.  
  


Derek finds the lube, slicking his dick up with a liberal amount of it – thankful yet again that he’s a werewolf and condoms aren’t necessary – before lining himself up and sliding inside Stiles’ ass.  
  


He gives Stiles time to adjust until Stiles decides to take matters into his own hands, wrapping his legs around Derek and digging his heels in Derek’s ass to encourage him to move.  
  


Derek starts rolling his hips, setting a rhythm, sliding in and out of Stiles slowly.  
  


“Yeah, like that.” Stiles breaths, digging his fingers in Derek’s shoulder blades, tightening his hold on him.  
  


He kisses Stiles again, their tongues sliding together. It’s open-mouthed, wet and sloppy as they’re panting into each other’s mouths.  
  


Stiles is meeting his thrusts now and Derek slides a hand over his chest, tweaking a pink nipple. He lets his hand travel down lower, letting them ghost over Stiles’ abs, making Stiles shudder beneath him.  
  


He takes Stiles’ cock in his hand again, jerking it in time with his thrusts.  
  


“ _Derek_.” Stiles moans, eyes rolling back inside his head.  
  


He angles his hips to find Stiles’ prostate and Stiles cries out when his cock slides against it.  
  


“Right there!”  
  


Derek keeps rubbing the head of his cock against the spot and a few thrusts later Stiles’ breathing gets heavier, then he’s coming with a long moan, baring his neck as he throws it back against the pillow and it’s enough for Derek to go insane, thrusting a few more times before he feels his own orgasm shoot through him as he’s coming deep inside of Stiles.  
  


They’re both breathing heavily and Derek has to remember to keep some of his weight on his arms instead of collapsing on top of Stiles.  
  


“Uh…Derek?” Stiles mumbles suddenly.  
  


It takes a few seconds for Derek to react, still coming down from his high.  
  


“…yeah?”  
  


“What’s happening to your dick?”  
  


Derek’s eyes shoot open and he chances a quick glance towards where his dick is still buried deep in Stiles’ ass. He sighs.  
  


“Remember how I said we should talk first?”  
  


Stiles frowns, eyes going wide as realization hits him. “Oh.”  
  


“Yeah.”  
  


They lie there for a few minutes before Stiles breaks the silence again.  
  


“So how long until it goes down?”  
  


Derek shrugs. “I don’t know…I’ve never knotted someone before.”  
  


Stiles smiles, stroking his fingers up and down Derek’s back and sighing contently.  
  


“So…mates, huh?”  
  


Derek can’t help the grin that’s spreading on his face.  
  


“Yeah, mates.”  
  


#  
  


It’s about half an hour later when Derek’s knot finally goes down. Now their cuddling, lying face to face and letting their hands wander over each other’s bodies lazily.  
  


Stiles snorts and Derek cocks an eyebrow at him.  
  


“…What?”  
  


“We totally made purgatory our bitch.”  
  


Derek huffs out a laugh, pulling Stiles back in to kiss his lips. Because he could do that now.  
  


“We sure did.”

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you liked it! 
> 
> You can find me on tumblr [here](http://thelooneycorner.tumblr.com/), don't be shy to say hi!


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